the royals ✅

chap 25: boxing is my safe place

 She laces up her shoes, sighing. She's exhausted, but she forces herself to move. She can tell she is losing weight. Her stomach is flattening further, giving way to defined abs, and her legs are thinning. Her face is losing weight too. Her features are more sharp, more threatening. It's appealing in some ways, unappealing in others. 

 She glances over her shoulder, "I'm leaving, Mom. I'll see you in a couple of hours" 

She hears her mom's sharp footsteps, following her down the stares. She sucks in a breathe. 

"Alexis, don't you dare just leave" Her mother sharply says, but Alexis is already pushing through the door. She doesn't hear anything.She pumps her legs for two miles, forcing herself forward. Music blares in her ears. She is hardly strong enough to force herself to do anything, but somehow, she forces herself step after step to keep going. Sweat beads on her face, and she wipes it away. She pulls up her spandex, tucking her phone on the side.

 The NIKE logo flashes in the light as she lays down, breathing heavily. Uneven breathes force her to stay in that position for several minutes, pressing her body against the cool grass. She can feel her rib-cage as she puts a hand on her belly, wiping the sweat. 

 Some days she doesn't miss Adonis as much as usual- the memories don't flood through her mind and suffocate her. Not missing him should be good. It's part of healing, isn't it? But it leaves her emptier then ever. She's nothing. A wisp in the fucking wind. She adjusts her position so she is now on her knees, panting for breathe.

 She forces herself up, wiping sweat from her face. She jogs past several shops now, on the main street in Los Angeles. She passes by several people but she barely sees faces. In fact, she does not see anything. Everything is a blur to her, zooming by. She finally stumbles into a coffee shop, sweat dripping from her face. She grabs a towel from the side of the shop, wiping her face. This shop specializes in pick-me up brews. For the sole purpose to give you more energy and calories.

  She runs away from her thoughts most days. The time has slipped through her fingers. 4 days are left till senior year. The ultimate year. The Royals have invited her to several events, keeping her satisfied, but she hasn't bothered attending. She pauses beside the register, quickly ordering, a small smile on her face.

 It takes the bartender a few minutes to whip up as she waits, her throat sore and her body empty of nutrition. She swallows her puke, rising in the back of her throat. "Thank you" She mutters as the drink is passed to her, the chilling liquid flowing down her dry throat. She feels better after several minutes, and she tightens the cap of the drink as she jogs several more blocks. She hears a familiar voice as soon as she enters and she cocks her head lightly to face Emmanuel, the owner of her all time favorite boxing club. 

  She's been coming here since she was 14, when her senior boyfriend at the time introduced her to it. 14-18, in hindsight, was not the best possible idea. Thinking of him unearths a box of unpleasant memories.

  Boxing is her safe place now. She lets out her anger, and ultimately, she feels better. She loves boxing, and she wouldn't quit for anything. "It has been far too long, hasn't it?" He says warmly as he wipes the counter of the drinks bar, smiling at her. She nods. Emmanuel treats her like an equal, and he is kinder to her then he is to most people who attend the club. She appreciates it.

 Her gaze turns slowly, "Yeah, I've been away," She absentmindedly says, tilting her head to his direction,"How is Mia?" She asks, sitting down on the chair besides the bar. He stares at her for a brief second before he replies. 

"Good" He replies, passing her something. She stares at it. She's full, but she knows better then to refuse Emmanuel. He will force her to drink it anyways. So she slowly drinks it, glancing at him. After she has finished half the glass, she drops it on table. She points towards the entrance to the main practice room and bids him goodbye. She can feel his eyes on her as she leaves. He can probably see the difference in her body. Everyone can. Her mother had kindly pointed out that she was "beginning to look frail and delicate" this morning.